Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging
by ttate-langdon
Summary: It's Sunday morning, and Marlene McKinnon has shaved off her eyebrows, gone to James Potter's party dressed as a stuffed olive, and turned into a ratwoman. Not to mention she made a fool of herself in front of Hogwart's resident Sex God, Sirius Black. Oh well, at least she's not completely thick, like her best pal Mary...


**Sunday August 23****rd**

**My Bedroom**

**Raining **

**10:00 am**

Dad had Uncle Eddie round so naturally they had to come and nose around and see what I was up to. If Uncle Eddie (who is bald as a coot – two coots, in fact) says to me one more time, "Should bald head be buttered?" I may kill myself. He doesn't seem to realise that I no longer wear romper-suits. I feel like yelling at him. "I am sixteen years old, Uncle Eddie! I am bursting with womanhood, I wear a bra! OK, it's a bit on the loose side and does ride up around my neck when I run to Potions... but the womanly potential is there, you bald coot!"

Talking of breasts, I'm worried I may end up like the rest of the women in the McKinnon family, with just the one bust, like a sort of shelf affair. Mum can balance things on hers when her hands are full – at parties, and so on, she can have a sandwich and drink and save a snack for later by putting it on her shelf. It's very unattractive, as she could just levitate things. I would like the proper amount of breastiness but not go too far with it, like Molly Prewett, for instance. I got the most awful shock last year when I had snuck into the prefect's bathroom. Her bra looks like two shopping bags. I suspect she is unbalanced hormonally. She certainly is when she tries to run after Frank Longbottom's pet toad. I thought she'd run straight into the wall with the momentum of her "bosoomers" as Mary so amusingly calls them.

**Still in my room**

**Still raining**

**Still Sunday**

**11:30 am**

I don't see why I can't have a lock on my bedroom door. I have no privacy! I can't even lock it with magic. Every time I suggest anything around this place people start shaking their heads and tutting. It's like living in a house full of Hippogriffs dressed in frocks and trousers. Or a house full of those nodding dogs or a house full of... anyway... I can't have a lock on my door is the short and short of it.

"Why not?" I asked Mum reasonably (catching her in one of the rare minutes she's not with Aunt Helen or at some sort of party).

"Because you might have an accident and we couldn't get in quick enough," she said.

"An accident like what?" I persisted.

"Well... you might faint," she said.

Then Dad joined in, "You might set fire to your bed and be overcome with fumes."

What is the matter with people? Alohomora is the most simplest of simplest spells ever! I know why they don't want me to have a lock on my door, it's because it would be a first sign of my path to adulthood and they can't bear the idea of that because it would mean they might have to get on with their own lives and leave me alone.

**Still Sunday**

**11:35 am**

There are six things very wrong with my life:

1. I have one of those under-the-skin spots that will never come to a head but will lurk in a red way for the next two years.

2. It is on my nose.

3. I have a three-year-old sister who may have peed somewhere in my room.

4. In nine days the summer hols will be over and then it will be back to Hogwarts and Professor McGonagall (head of Gryffindor).

5. I am very ugly and need to go into an ugly home.

6. I went to a party dressed as a stuffed olive.

**11:40 am **

OK, that's it. I'm turning over a new leaf. An owl just arrived with my monthly subscription of _Witch Weekly, _and it had an article about how to be happy if you're very unhappy (which I am). The article is called "Emotional Confidence". What you have to do is _Recall...Experience... and HEAL. _So you think of a painful incident and you remember all the ghastly detail of it... this is the Recall bit, then you experience the emotions and then you JUST LET IT GO.

**2:00 pm**

Uncle Eddie has gone, thank Merlin. He actually asked me if I'd like to ride in the sidecar on his motor bike. Why can't he just disapparate? Are all parents from Planet Xenon? What should I have said? "Yes, certainly, Uncle Eddie, I would like to go in your pre-war sidecar and with a bit of luck Benjy Fenwick From Down the Street will see me with some mad, bald bloke and that will be the end of my life. Thank you."

**4:00 pm**

Mary came round. It is very beneficial to have her live round the corner, I must say. Anyway, she said it took her ages to get out of her catsuit after James Potters' fancy dress party. I wasn't very interested but I asked her why out of politeness.

She said, "Well the muggle behind the counter in the hire shop was really good-looking."

"Yes, so?"

"Well, so I lied about my size – I got a size eight catsuit instead of ten."

She showed me the marks around her neck and waist: they were quite deep. I said, "Your head looks a bit swollen up."

"No, that's just Sunday."

I told her about the _Witch Weekly _article and so we spent a few hours recalling the fancy dress party (i.e. the painful incident) and experiencing the emotions in order to heal them.

I blame Mary entirely. It may have been my idea to go as a stuffed olive but she didn't stop me like a pal should do. In fact, she encouraged me. We made the stuffed olive costume out of chicken wire and green crepe paper – that was for the "olive" bit. It had little shoulder straps to keep it up and I wore a green T-shirt and green tights underneath. It was the "stuffed" bit that Mary helped with mostly. As I recall, it was she that suggested I dye my hair and head and face and neck red... like a sort of pimento. It was, I have to say, quite funny at the time. Well, when we were in my room. The difficulty came when I tried to get out of my room. I had to go down the stairs sideways.

When I did get out of the door I had to go back and change my tights because my cat Angus had one of his "Call of the Wilds" episodes.

He really is completely bonkers. We got him when we went on holiday to Loch Lomond. On the last day I found him wandering around the garden of the guest house we were staying in. Tarry-a-Wee-While, it was called. That should give you some idea of what the holiday was like.

I should have guessed all was not entirely well in the cat department when I picked him up and he began savaging my cardigan. But he was such a lovely looking kitten, all tabby and long-haired, with huge yellow eyes. Even as a kitten he looked like a small dog. I begged and pleaded to take him home.

"He'll die here, he has no mummy or daddy," I said plaintively.

My dad said, "He's probably eaten them." Honestly, he can be callous. I worked on Mum and in the end I brought him home. The Scottish landlady did say she thought he was probably mixed breed, half domestic tabby and half Scottish wildcat. I remember thinking, Oh, that will be exotic. I didn't realise that he would grow to the size of a small Labrador only mad. I used to drag him around on a lead but, as I explained to Mrs Down the Street (Benjy's mum), he ate it.

Anyway, sometimes he hears the call of the Scottish highlands. So, as I was passing by as a stuffed olive he leaped out from his concealed hiding-place behind the curtains (or his lair, as I suppose he imagined it in his cat brain) and attacked my tights or "prey". I couldn't break his hold by banging his head because he was darting from side to side. In the end I managed to reach the outdoor brush behind the door and beat him off with it.

Then I couldn't get on the Knight Bus, and the driver started yelling at me. Dad said, "Why don't you let me help you there with a bit of side-along apparation?"

Honestly, what is the point? I said, "Dad, if you think Mary and I are apparating to James Potters' doorstep with you, you're mad."

He got all shirty like parents do as soon as you point out how stupid and useless they are. "Well, you'll have to walk then..."

What is the point?

When we did eventually get to the party (Mary and I walked), I had a horrible time. Everyone laughed at first but then more or less ignored me. James did talk to me and say that my costume was fab, but I think he was just being kind. He is very kind, James is. Many a drunken Wizard's Chess sessions I've had with him. I honestly don't know why Lily hates him – he's obsessed with her.

In the end I was at the gate for about an hour before Dad apparated to come and get me. We didn't speak a word.

Mary, on the other hand, had a great time. She said she was surrounded by vampires and werewolves and wizards (Boys have very vivid imaginations... not.)

I was feeling a bit moody as we did the "recall" bit. I said bitterly, "Well, I could have been surrounded by boys if I hadn't been dressed as an olive."

Mary said, "Marlene, you thought it was funny and I thought it was funny but you have to remember that boy's don't think girls are for funniness."

She looked annoyingly "wise" and "mature". What the hell did she know about boys? Merlin, she had an annoying fringe. Shut up, fringey.

I said, "Oh yeah, so that's what they want, is it? Boys? They want simpering girly-wirlys in catsuits?"

Mary went on. "Yes, they do. Although Sirius found your costume funny."

The Sex God was there and he saw me in my stupid olive costume! "_He_ was there?"

She was zipping up her rucksack. "Well, yes... I, uh, have to go. Early supper."

She left my room and followed her. "Why could you have not told me this earlier!"

Mary mumbled something as she went down the stairs.

I yelled at her as she went through the door, "What a mate you are, McDonald!"

**11:00 pm**

I can already feel myself getting fed up with boys and I haven't had anything to do with them yet.

**Midnight**

Oh Merlin, please, please don't make me out to be a lesbian like Professor McGonagall or Madam Hooch.

**12:10**

What do lesbians do, anyway?

**Monday August 24****th**

**5:00 pm**

Absolutely no owls from anyone. I may as well be dead. I'm going to have an early night.

**5:30 pm**

Sophie came in and squiggled into bed with me, saying, "Hahahahaha!" for so long I had to get up. She's so nice, although a bit smelly. At least she likes me and would tell me if Sirius Black was going to a party.

**10:30 pm**

Have put on a face mask made from egg yolk just in case I see any _les garcons gorgeous_ when I take Angus out for a walk tomorrow.

**Tuesday August 25****th**

**9:00 am**

Woke up and though my face was paralysed. It was quite scary – my skin was all tight and stiff and I couldn't open my eyes properly. Then I remembered the egg-yolk mask. I must have fallen asleep reading. I don't think I'll go to bed early again; it makes my eyes go all puffy. I look like there is a touch of the Oriental in my family. Sadly not the case. The nearest we have to any exotic influence is Auntie Helen, who can sing in Chinese, but only after a couple of pints of Firewhiskey.

**11:00 am**

Tried talking the parents into dying my hair blonde, but my dad has got the mentality of a Teletubby only not so developed. I said to Mum, "I'm going to dye my hair blonde, what product would you recommend?" She pretended not to hear me and went on dressing Sophie. But Dad went ballistic.

"You're sixteen years old, you've only had that hair for sixteen years and you want to change it already! How bored are you going to be with it by the time you're thirty? What colour will you be up to by then?"

Honestly, he makes little real sense these days. I said to Mum, "Oh, I thought I could hear a voice squeaking and making peculiar noises, but I was mistaken. I'm taking Angus for a walk!"

As I ran for the door I heard him shouting, "I suppose you think being sarcastic and applying eyeliner in a straight line will get you your OWLS!"

OWLS, I ask you. He's a living reminder of the Stone Age.

**11:05 am**

Had to double back from my dramatic exit because I had forgotten Angus.

**Noon**

Bumped into Benjy From Down the Street. Thank Merlin I put on that face mask. He was walking his poodle and smoking a cigarette (which made my legs go the tiniest bit jelloid). I talked to him and struggled to hold Angus' lead, because I think he was hungry for a poodle sandwich. He said, "See you around," when I left to come home. I think he's supposed to be a bit thick but, hey ho, he can be my bit of rough. Snigger snigger.

**Wednesday August 26****th**

**11:00 am**

I have no friends. Not one singled friend. No one has owled me, not even Mary has came over (not that I would want her to). Mum and Dad have gone to work, Sophie is at Auntie Helen's. I may as well be dead.

Perhaps I am dead. I wonder how you would know. If you died in your sleep and woke up dead, who would let you know?

It could be that you can see everyone but they can't see you because you are dead. Oh, I've really given myself the creeps now... I'm going to put on a really loud record and dance about.

**Noon**

Now I am still freaked out but also tired. If I did die I wonder if anyone would really care. Who would come to my funeral? Mum and Dad, I suppose... they'd have to as it's mostly their fault that I was depressed enough to commit suicide in the first place.

Why couldn't I have a normal family like Dorcas and Lily? They've got normal brothers and sisters (well, Dorcas does...). Their dads have got beards and sheds. Dorcas even went on holiday to Germany in July.

**2:00 pm**

Looking through old family albums... I'm not really surprised I'm ugly, the photos of Dad as a child are terrifying. His nose is huge... it takes up half his face. In fact, he is literally just a nose with legs and arms.

**10:00 pm**

Sophie has woken up and insists on sleeping in my bed. It's quite nice, although she does smell a bit on the hamsterish side.

**Midnight**

The tunnel of love dream I've just had, where this gorgey bloke is carrying me through the warm waters of the Caribbean, turns out to be Sophie's wet pyjamas on my legs.

Change bed. Sophie not a bit bothered and in fact slaps my hand and calls me "Bad boy" when I change her pyjamas.

**Thursday August 27****th**

**11:00 am**

Bumped into Benjy From Down the Street again. We sat on my garden wall for a bit. It's funny, he's one of the only lads I don't feel like I should rush and cover myself in make-up for. I don't even flick my hair so that it covers half my face (and therefore half my nose). Dad says if I keep doing it I will go blind in one eye, and also that it makes me look like a Pekinese, but what does he know?

I think the reason that I'm not too self-conscious in front of Benjy is that he has a HUGE mouth. I mean it, like Mick Jagger. He is about seventeen and is in Hufflepuff. He's mad about Quidditch and supports the Chuddley Cannons, like me.

He's sort of attractive, despite the mouth. He wants to be a Quidditch player and travel the world. When I left he said, "See you later." Oh no, here we go again, on the "See you later" trail.

**9:00 pm**

Saw Benjy walking down the street with his mates. He looked round and up at my bedroom window so I had to bob down quickly. I hope he didn't see me because I had an avocado mask on and my hair Spellotaped down to keep my fringe straight.

**Thursday August 27****th**

**11:00 am**

I've started worrying about what to wear for the first day back at Hogwarts. It only five days away now. I wonder how much "natural" makeup I can get away with? Concealer is OK – I wonder about mascara. Maybe I should just dye my eyelashes? I hate my eyebrows. I say eyebrows but in fact it's just one eyebrow right along my forehead. I may have to do some radical plucking if I can find Mum's tweezers. She hides things from me now because she says that I never replace anything. I'll have to rummage around in her bedroom.

**1:00 pm **

Prepared a light lunch of sandwich spread and pumpkin juice. There's never anything to eat in this house. No wonder my elbows stick out so much.

**2:00 pm**

Found the tweezers eventually. Why Mum would think I wouldn't find them in Dad's tie drawer I really don't know. I did find something very strange in the tie drawer as well as the tweezers. It was a sort of apron thing in a special box. I hope against hope that my dad is not a transvestite. It would be more that flesh and blood could stand if I had to "understand" his feminine side. And me and Mum and Sophie have to watch whilst he clatters around in one of Mum's nighties and fluffy mules... We'll probably have to start calling him Daphne.

Merlin, it's painful plucking. I'll have to have a little lie down. The pain is awful, it's made my eyes water like mad.

**4:00 pm**

Cracked it. I'll use Dad's razor.

**4:05 pm**

Sharper than I thought. It's taken a lot of hair just on one stroke. I'll have to even up the other one now.

**4:16 pm**

Bugger it. It looks all right, I think, but I look very surprised in on eye. I'll have to even up the other one now.

**6:00 pm**

Mum nearly dropped Sophie when she saw me. Her exact words were, "What in the name of Merlin's beard have you done to yourself, you stupid girl?"

Merlin I hate parents! Me stupid? They're so stupid. She wishes I was still Sophie's age so she could dress me in ridiculous hats with earflaps and ducks on.

**7:00 pm**

When Dad came in I could hear them talking about me.

"Mumble mumble... she looks like... mumble mumble," from Mum, then I heard Dad, "She WHAT? Well... mumble...mumble...grumble" Stamp, stamp, bang, bang on the door.

"Marlene, what have you done now?"

I shouted from under the blankets – he couldn't get in because I had put a chest of drawers in front of the door – "At least I'm a real woman!"

He said through the door, "What in the name of Merlin's arse is that supposed to mean?"

Honestly, he can be so crude.

**8:00 pm**

Dad's being completely unreasonable – he won't at least stop my pain and misery and charm my eyebrows back on. He said it would teach me a lesson. Then he started going on about the fifties.

**10:00 pm**

Maybe they'll grow back overnight. How long does it take for eyebrows to grow?

**Friday August 28****th**

**11:00 am**

Eyebrows haven't grown back.

**11:15 am**

Mary owled and wanted to go shopping in Diagon Alley – there's some new makeup range in Malkin Couture that looks so natural you can't tell you have any on.

I wrote back, "_Do they do eyebrows?_"

I got back, "_Why? What do you mean? Do you mean false eyelashes?_"

I said, "_No, I mean eyebrows. You know the hairy bits above your eyes._" Honestly, she can be so thick.

"_Of course they don't do eyebrows. Everyone's got eyebrows, why would you need a spare pair?_"

I wrote, "_I haven't got anymore. I shaved them off by mistake."_

The owl came back really quickly, and the parchment said, "_I'm coming round now, don't do anything until I get there."_

**Noon**

When I opened the door Mary looked at me as if I was a house-elf. "You look like a house-elf," she says. She really is a dim friend. It's more like having a dog than a friend, actually.

**6:00 pm**

Mary has gone. Her idea of help was to draw some eyebrows on with eyeliner pencil.

Obviously I have to stay in forever now.

**7:00 pm**

Dad is annoying me so much. He just comes to the door, looks in and laughs, and then he goes away for a bit.

**8:00 pm**

The only nice person is Sophie. She was stroking where my eyebrows used to be and then she went off and brought me a lump of cheese. Great. I have become ratwoman.

I wonder who our Defence against the Dark Arts teacher will be.

Pray Merlin Professor McGonagall doesn't tell them about the unfortunate Cornish Pixie incident. Minie would. Who would have thought a few pixies could cause so much havoc in so little time? When I let them out in the classroom for a bit of a fly around I wouldn't expect them to pull down Lily's panties (much to the delight of James).

Strikes me that Minie has very little sense of humour. She is also about eighty and a Miss – which speaks volumes in my book. Mind you, as ratwoman I'll probably end up just the same as her. Having cats and warm milk. Wearing huge knickers. Listening to bagpipes. Being interested in things.

I may as well kill myself. I would be bothered but I'm too depressed.

**Saturday August 29****th**

**10:00 am**

M and D went out to Diagon Alley to get the last of my school books. Mum said did I want her to buy some school shoes for me? I glanced meaningfully at her shoes. It's sad that someone of her mature years tries to keep up with the young ones. You'd think she'd be ashamed to be mutton dressed as lamb, but no. I could see her knickers when she sat down the other day (and I wasn't the only one).

**Noon**

I was glancing through _Witch Weekly _and it listed kissing techniques. What I don't understand is how do you know when to do it, and how do you know which side to go to? You don't want to be bobbing around like pigeons for hours but I couldn't tell much from the photos.

**12:05 pm**

I have kissed to boys in my sixteen years – pathetic. I'm the one true ratwoman.

**12:07 pm**

Well, to be fair, one was James during a game of drunken Wizard's Chess.

**12:07 and 30 secs**

Even if I did throw up on him afterwards.

**1:00 pm**

Should probably start packing for school, so I've written out a list of sensible things I will need for the year ahead.

1. An eyebrow pencil.

2. A Year's supply of cheese (For I am ratwoman, and must live up to the name).

3. A new lippy.

Yes, that seems about right.

**11:00 pm**

Through my curtains I can see a big yellow moon. I'm thinking of all the people in the world who will be looking at that same moon.

I wonder how many of them haven't got eyebrows?


End file.
